


garlean sensibilities

by 님 (nymmiah)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gift Giving, Implied Sexual Content, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymmiah/pseuds/%EB%8B%98
Summary: The Warrior could only guess what this boon was that Cid was gifting him to help him relieve his stress.Otherwise known as "Cid is a good bro".
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond & Warrior of Light
Kudos: 9





	garlean sensibilities

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses.

“Look—you’ve been looking pretty anxious lately, and I must admit, I have come to care about you just a tad after having pulled you out of the fire… how many times has it been? Three times now?” Cid mused, looking thoughtful. “Anyhow, back to the matter at hand: I thought I’d be that dashing saviour of yours again, and offer you a little special something to help ease your stress.”

The Warrior of Light looked not convinced, staring at the bag that Cid held out with a grin.

“What is in it?” The Warrior asked in a manner that bespoke of how dubious he found the situation. “Is it that Windup Cid poppet that you’ve been manufacturing? I don't want it."

“Nay! Nothing like that. Also, kind friend that I am, I'll pretend I'm not offended that you wouldn't want a miniature version of me to keep you warm in your lonely nights. Just—don’t open it until you’re in some place private. I’ve included instructions, if you turn out to be as unintuitive as I suspect and can’t figure things out merely by looking at it,” Cid replied. He let out a laugh, bright and loud, and struck the Warrior hard upon his shoulder. “Well, I’ll be off then! Don’t get into too much mischief! I’ll be too busy working on the  _ Enterprise _ to drag your arse out of any fires you dive into!”

Ere the Warrior could call him to stay, the Garlean man had rushed off to the Manufactory once more, leaving the Warrior with that mysterious bag in hand.

The Warrior let out a sigh most put-out. Then, ignoring the warnings that Cid had given, he reached into the bag to see what exactly it was inside.

A thick stave, made of some queer material that resembled enamel yet wasn't nearly as heavy as that same material. It had no features of interest save for a row of small buttons at the flat bottom. How was that supposed to be anything illicit enough to require a private room?

A parchment was tucked to the side, and he pulled that out.

He read through the printed script upon the sheet once. And then again. And finally, he blanched, shoving the parchment back into the bag.

"Cid, you bastard!" He choked out.

What sort of blasphemous prick would secure a godsdamned magitek  _ pleasure device  _ and pass it onto another without any leave whatsoever? And by the implications of the entire thing, Cid had even handcrafted the damnable thing!

The Warrior's countenance would surely be stained a permanent red from this point onwards.

Garleans were sick in the head, and this was only proof of that. Lucia would be the sole healthy Garlean that the Warrior would have in his acquaintance: Cid nan Garlond was just as depraved as Baelsar and Livia sas Junius.

Roughly closing the bag up, he stormed over towards the airship landing, standing over the precipice before the abyssal drop surrounding Ishgard.

He stood there for a long while, holding the bag out over the perilous edge, staring at the leather-bound "gift" that Cid had crafted.

Pleasure devices belonged not on his person  _ (nor in him) _ , and instead in pleasure houses and brothels both. He needed not the aid of some unknown magitek wand, nor did he need to seek physical release in order to  _ ease his stress _ . And yet--

Due to some sick, unknown part of himself, the Warrior found himself compelled to lower the bag, to remove it from the edge and to take it with himself to the Forgotten Knight where he could safely ensconce himself within his inn room.

He sat upon his bed, knees drawn into his chest as he stared at the bag by his feet.

Innocently that bag of sin lay, looking as if it were as virtuous as inanimate objects could be.

"The Twelve and whatever Garleans believe in damn you, Cid," the Warrior hissed as he reached forward, his hands closing around the stave within. "You'd better be right that this will leave me  _ unconscious _ ."


End file.
